


braid

by glitch_writes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Biracial Character, Fluff, Pining, playing with hair, talking about past lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitch_writes/pseuds/glitch_writes
Summary: Did Asahi’s hair fascinate him in a past life as well, Daichi wondered as he finally took hold of it. Were Asahi’s eyes as gentle in that life, Daichi considered as he ran his fingers through locks softer than he’d dared hope for. How many lifetimes had they spent side by side, he hoped with a curious nostalgia as he separated the hair into three parts.-In the quiet serenity of Asahi's room, Daichi braids Asahi's hair.





	braid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepessimist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepessimist/gifts).



> Second voter fic! Thank you so much for voting, Mo. You know damn well your voice matters, and even when it felt like it didn't in 2016, you still went out there without hesitation. ilu, you're incredible <333
> 
> (I've always wanted to write biracial Asahi since his stageplay actor is half Australian. Here it's just a small thing, overall insignificant to the fic, but someday I'd love to write something where it's more significant and explores how it affects his life!)

It was just hair, Daichi told himself as he reached to the brown strands that taunted him, soft waves that tumbled down to rest on broad shoulders that he'd dreamed about as often as the hair itself. 

It was just hair. Hair he’d wanted to touch for two and a half years, on a man he wanted to hold close for nearly as long.

Asahi’s room reflected his upbringing. A wooden dresser, faded and knicked. A chair from the dining room set instead of a computer chair, a backrest peg missing. A crochet blanket draped over it, yarn frayed and colors washed. Even the comforter on his bed they were sitting on was floral and faded. Asahi’s grandmother was Japanese, but her late husband was from a Western country Daichi couldn’t recall, and she’d been fond of the home they built together, enough so to bring it all with them when they moved back to Japan decades ago.

Daichi was fond of it, too. It was cozy, familiar in a way that it wasn’t, like meeting someone for the first time and knowing deep in his soul that they’d been close in a life before. 

Like when he’d met Asahi. 

Did Asahi’s hair fascinate him in a past life as well, Daichi wondered as he finally took hold of it. Were Asahi’s eyes as gentle in that life, Daichi considered as he ran his fingers through locks softer than he’d dared hope for. How many lifetimes had they spent side by side, he hoped with a curious nostalgia as he separated the hair into three parts.

“Um… So, why do you fix Aoi-chan’s hair in the mornings?” Asahi asked, reaching for the back of his neck out of habit and stopping short, letting his hand fall back to his lap to wring with his other hand. “Don’t you leave before your parents?” 

“She gets up early just so I can do it.” Daichi wrapped one of the three strands over the other, and then again from the other side. “It’s a younger sibling thing. Going out of her way to get my time. Noaki found out about it last week, and now he gets up early just to bother us.”

“Ooh. Is that why you wanted to practice braiding? Because he doesn’t give you a chance?”

“Yup. It’s impossible to get him to stop climbing me for long enough.” One day when his siblings were older, he’d have to thank them for giving him an excuse to finally run his fingers through Asahi’s hair. He’d have to thank Asahi later, too, for letting him practice; there was a sense of pride in getting Aoi-chan’s hair just right and seeing it give her that extra bounce in her step. 

Daichi shook his head at the mess of a braid in his hands before combing his fingers through to undo his work. Braiding was far simpler than he expected, but the final product was no reflection of its simplicity; it was uneven, lumpy, fraying like the yarn in the blanket across the room. 

The distractions didn’t help. There was a freckle on the back of Asahi’s neck, peeking out from his hairline. It was tiny, easy to miss, but kept drawing Daichi’s eye, like the freckle on Asahi’s bicep that Daichi would steal glances at in the locker room. 

The other distraction was Asahi’s shoulders, though not like the welcomed distraction they usually were. 

“Oi. Relax.” Daichi began to part the hair again, the strands naturally curling around his fingers as if clinging to his touch. “Why are you so tense?” 

“Eh?! I’m not-” 

“Asahi. I can tell when you’re nervous, you know.” Granted, overthinking was Asahi’s default state, and ‘nervous’ usually came with the territory. Daichi let go of the hair in favor of kneading his fingers into Asahi’s shoulders. “What’s the problem?” 

Asahi relaxed at the touch, leaning into it ever so slightly, just enough for Daichi’s heart to skip a beat. “It’s nothing.”

“Do you want to do something else?” 

“No, no. It feels nice. I like having you play with my hair.” Asahi paused. A pause just long enough to take a breath deep enough to ease his shoulders further. A pause just long enough for a comfortable silence to settle over them. 

A pause just long enough for Asahi's own words to hit him. “Unless that’s weird, is it weird?! We can stop-”

“It’s not weird, you doofus,” Daichi said, softer than he intended, with a curl of his lips just as tender. He brushed his thumb over the freckle drawing his gaze, a guilty touch with no regrets. 

Asahi leaned back with a content sigh, closer still, whether he was aware of it or not, his back nearly touching Daichi's chest.

Spurred by a burst of quiet confidence and enabled by Asahi leaning into his touch, Daichi let go of Asahi's shoulders in favor of his hair, gently running his fingers through to caress his scalp. “So, uh. How's this?” he asked quietly, careful not to disturb the still serenity.

“It's nice,” Asahi replied with another sigh, as content as the last one. 

Daichi continued his caress, massaging Asahi's head until Asahi gently broke the comfortable silence. “Hey, Daichi? Do you… believe in past lives?”

Daichi's hands stilled, freezing with his distracted thoughts. “Yeah. Yeah, why?” 

“...I feel like… like we've met before, sometimes. Like we've done this before, but it's not deja vu. Uh, does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” Daichi took hold of the hair once more, separating it again into three parts. “I was thinking that, too.”

“Oh? How do you think we knew each other?”

“What if…” Daichi placed one strand over the other. “What if we were knights together?”

“Ooh, like honorable warriors, standing back to back on the battlefield.”

Daichi smiled, weaving another strand over, pulling the braid together tightly. How many lives had they woven together, a braid of past, the present, and what was to come? “I hope I braided your hair when we were warriors, too.”


End file.
